


Daylight

by yeaka



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 10:44:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20777273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Professor Elrond bumps into his assistant outside.





	Daylight

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s a very rare occasion that Elrond leaves the house without a full jacket, or at least a button up ironed right down to the cuffs. He’s one of those older, stuffier professors who’s often told he dresses like a grandfather, which suits him just fine, because hopefully someday soon, he will be. Now that Arwen’s moved out of his house and in with Aragorn, she isn’t by the door anymore to tell him he’s overdressed. But he figures that out on his own when he steps into the grueling summer sun and has to detour back inside. Elves have strong constitutions, but they can still burn up in the furnace their world’s become. 

With a shake of his head, he retreats back to his bedroom and peels out of his sweater. He doesn’t own anything short sleeved, but he does own relatively light business shirts that he can at least roll up to his elbows. He certainly doesn’t own shorts, and he refuses to roll up his trousers. With his wallet in one pocket and a folded cloth shopping bag in the other, he ventures back outside and fares a tiny bit better. 

It’s too nice a day to justify the car, so Elrond sets out for the shopping district on foot. Grocery runs are a somewhat simpler affair now that he only has one mouth to feed, but he still tends to put them off as long as possible. Now he wishes he hadn’t, because he won’t be able to pick up any of the frozen items he’d wanted—they’d surely melt before he got them home. He’s revising his shopping list in his head as he stops at a crosswalk and glances across the street.

The coffee shop there is buzzing with life, most of its outdoor tables happily occupied with well-fed patrons. The light turns to red, and the walk signal blinks on, but Elrond doesn’t move right away. 

He recognizes the slender elf in the corner of the garden, bent over a book at the smallest table. His long, brown hair cascades down his trim shoulders, half hiding the yellow spaghetti straps of his patterned top. He has both elbows up and his chin resting on his hands, slouching in the worst posture Elrond’s ever seen on him. Granted, Elrond’s never seen him in a casual setting before, and Lindir’s always been an over-achiever at the university.

When Elrond reaches the other side of the road, he considers going over and saying hello. It wouldn’t exactly be inappropriate—while Lindir was his assistant during the last semester, there’s no guarantee now that Lindir will return to the post after summer break. A part of Elrond had hoped he wouldn’t, because he’s incredibly bright and efficient and should already be progressing to greater heights. Another part of Elrond hoped he’d never leave, because Lindir is easily the best coworker Elrond’s ever had: he’s long been a pleasant ray of light in Elrond’s otherwise dreary career.

While he’s still contemplating an approach, Lindir gets up from the table. He collects the ceramic in-house mug from his countertop and takes it over to the rack of used dishes against the building. Seeing him stand reveals the rest of his outfit—a lightweight, soft sundress that stops only halfway down his thighs. It swirls lightly with his movement and catches the breeze, the frayed bottom stirring around his bare legs. In the bright midday sun, the view takes Elrond’s breath away. Much like his own wardrobe, Elrond’s never seen Lindir in anything less than full coverage. Suddenly, he feels blessed for the brutal weather. 

Lindir turns back to his table, reaching for his book. Before he collects it, he happens to look up, and he clearly spots Elrond. 

Elrond has no choice but to move forward. He does his best to keep his eyes level with Lindir’s, though he very much wants to do another full-body take. At Lindir’s table, he gives a simple, “Hello.”

Lindir’s cheeks flush a vivid pink that creeps right up to his pointed ears. Though the expression’s terribly endearing, Elrond tries not to read into it too much—Lindir used to blush at the office all the time. He brushes a lock of silken hair behind one ear and answers, “Hi.”

There’s an awkward silence that Elrond eventually fills with, “You must be doing well, I see. You look lovely.”

Lindir’s blush deepens, but a wide smile blooms with it. He laughs and bites his bottom lip as though to hold his reaction back, but it doesn’t work; he’s dreadfully transparent. As always, Elrond’s glad to inspire that look, but he doesn’t push it any further. 

Lindir clears his throat and mutters, “I don’t, uh... I don’t normally dress like this, but... it’s so hot, and...” He trails off. 

Elrond reiterates, “It looks beautiful on you.”

Lindir looks like he really will melt. He manages a warm, “Thank you.”

Elrond nods. He wills Lindir to say more, but nothing comes. So he shifts as though to leave again, ready to give his goodbye, only Lindir hurriedly asks, “Ah—how is your summer going, Professor?”

“Elrond,” he corrects, as he’s done a hundred times. Lindir laughs and nods. 

“Sorry, _Elrond._”

“It’s going well, thank you. Although Arwen finally moved in with Aragorn, so I’m afraid I have the place all to myself now. I think you met him at the Fangorn Reserve Fundraiser?”

“Oh, yes, he seemed nice. So... it’s just you, then? That must be nice, having more space.”

Elrond shrugs. It isn’t really. Because it’s Lindir, and they always get along so well, he admits, “It’s a bit lonely, actually.”

Lindir nods sympathetically, then opens his mouth, only to close it without saying anything. Elrond patiently waits, and eventually, Lindir murmurs, albeit whilst looking anywhere but Elrond, “I’m free until the semester starts, so if you ever want company...”

It’s an invitation if Elrond ever heard one. He’d heard from numerous people that Lindir had a crush on him but was never sure himself—Lindir’s naturally quiet and lovely and all the things Elrond enjoys, and he hadn’t wanted to project his own feelings where there weren’t any. And when they’d worked together, it seemed a bad idea. 

Now the day feels new and free. Elrond boldly asks, “Are you doing anything tonight?”

Lindir’s gaze was hovering along the potted shrubbery behind Elrond, but it snaps back to Elrond at that question. He answers, perhaps emboldened by Elrond making the first real move, “No, but even if I was, I’d cancel it for you.” 

Elrond can feel his own smile growing. “Then I’d love to have dinner with you. Although I’m afraid the fridge is a bit empty at the moment—I came out to fetch groceries.”

Lindir sucks in a breath and asks, “Could I possibly come for that too? If you let me chip in for the ingredients, I can make you a fabulous cabbage casserole.”

“My dear Lindir, I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”

Lindir beams. He takes a second to collect his book, then hurriedly glues himself to Elrond’s side. They head out together, the day somehow even brighter than before.


End file.
